The Throne of Heroes was a sanctuary beyond comprehension. It existed outside the confines of time and space, a sacred repository for the echoes of humanity's legends. A place where the noble spirits of myth and history rested, bound together by the collective belief of mankind.
But tonight, the Throne shuddered.
A ripple of shadow crept through its golden expanse, a slow and insidious corruption weaving itself into the radiant tapestry. The once harmonious hum of the Throne was interrupted by a faint, metallic crackle—like a distant scream muffled under layers of static.
In the depths of this disturbance, a light emerged.
It wasn't the warm, golden light of the Throne, but a silver-and-black thread, cold and unnatural. It twisted through the Throne like a parasite, pulsing with a rhythm that seemed to mock the sanctity of the space.
And from the light, a voice spoke.
"So, this is where humanity from other universe keeps its cherished myths."
The voice carried an air of detached curiosity, tinged with something darker. A figure emerged within the light—a woman draped in shadow and illuminated by an eerie glow. Her presence was ethereal yet oppressive, as though the space itself recoiled at her intrusion.
It was Carmen who wore a lab coat, unbuttoned and opened over her olive-green dress shirt, her short and black miniskirt. Her fragmented consciousness now a part of the Light she once sought to spread. Her presence oozed with authority, a living embodiment of the City's despair and horror.
"Legends, heroes, myths… they are but fragile constructs of a world that fears its own fragility. And yet, they call this a sanctuary? How quaint."
The City's influence bled into the Throne like ink spilling into water. It wasn't the City's heroes or legends that Carmen brought, but its truths—its horrors. The weight of the City's brutality manifested in whispers and echoes, chilling and relentless.
"A Fixer's worth is measured in blood."
"The Singularity hums… its hunger endless."
"Distortions… they are the reflection of your failure to grasp your own mind."
"The Head sees all. There is no escape."
Carmen tilted her head, her gaze piercing through the golden fabric of the Throne. "Humanity creates these idols to shield themselves from their reality. But in my City… We embrace our true selve."
Her words resonated, and with them came the echoes of the City. Untold horror came to existence pourinh in the throne endless space.
Fixers, the mercenaries of the City, stood in fragmented shadows. Their forms flickered like afterimages, each one bearing scars of survival and desperation.
Abnormalities, cognitive beings made manifest into the current reality, loomed in the distance. Their grotesque forms flickered briefly—towering birds, humanoid beasts, and creatures stitched together by nightmare logic. Their eyes burned with unyielding malice.
Distortions, twisted manifestations of human suffering, whispered in disjointed voices, their fragmented words laced with pain and madness.
Singularity, fantastical technology a Wing possesses which seemingly defies all known laws of physics. The corporation exploits its singularity and misery of their feather in order to conduct business.
And above them all, the shadow of the Head, the omnipresent rulers of the City, cast a cold and merciless gaze. Their authority was absolute, their control unwavering.
Carmen gestured, and the Light expanded, wrapping itself around the edges of the Throne. It reached deeper, intertwining with the golden threads of the Heroic Spirits.
"Your heroes are fragments of belief, bound by stories of hope and valor. Let me show you the legends of my City. Legends born of despair, necessity, and unrelenting survival."
For the first time, the Throne seemed to resist. Its golden glow flared in defiance, pushing back against the invasive Light. But Carmen's influence was unyielding. The Light twisted further, forcing the Throne to open pathways it was never meant to touch.
A ripple spread through the Throne's infinite expanse, and the figures of the City began to take form within its domain. Legendary Fixers, horrifying Abnormalities, and even the faint shadows of those consumed by the City's brutality emerged.
The Throne flickered violently, its golden light dimming as it struggled to contain the intrusion. Carmen's voice grew softer, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of inevitability.
"You will summon them," she said. "Not because they belong here, but because they are what you truly need."
"Let them see the legends born not of hope, but of despair. Let them summon the ones who embody their precious 'Light' and 'Darkness.' After all… isn't that what humanity is so fond of?"
The silver-and-black Light pulsed once more, stabilizing its connection to the Throne. Carmen's fragmented consciousness smiled faintly, her voice echoing one last time before fading into the void.
"Let the City's truth show you what your legends never could."
The Throne of Heroes fell silent, but the damage was done. The Light remained, a lingering scar in its golden expanse. And from that moment on, the Servants summoned from the Throne would not only be legends of humanity's past, but also the shadows of the City—heroes and monsters born from desperation and despair.